No sooner had they returned to Markus’s room than he had sent her out again with an envelope to deliver to the servant’s common room, and strict orders that no one should see her put it there. She made her way through the winding corridors and soon arrived at the common room’s main entrance. She opened the heavy wooden doors and stepped inside.

It was less lavishly furnished than the rest of the house, but still kept up the general aesthetic, with a huge, heavy oak table stretching through the center of the room. It was straight-edged and unadorned, unlike the needlessly ornate furniture in every other room, but was surrounded by plenty of plush parlor chairs. Against one side wall was a large TV, surrounded by a couch and other arm chairs, and against the other was a row of computer terminals. And sitting in a chair at the huge table was Maxwell, scowling down at its surface, looking gloomy and troubled.

Markus had ordered her not to be seen, and since he cared more about the ends than the means, she decided to take a page from his book and expedite matters for herself. She still felt bad after being forced to lie to Maxwell too, so saw it as a chance to redeem herself.

“Hello Maxwell! He’s just arrived in his room!”

Maxwell shot up, almost toppling his chair over. The gloominess was replaced by determination.

“Great! That’s great! I’ll go have a word with him right now!”

He rushed past her and out of the room, giving her a smile and a ‘thank-you’ that she was happy to accept this time. She watched him go until he rounded a corner, and then she closed the door. She peeked out the door in the back to check the north corridor, to make sure no one was coming from that direction either. Then she took the envelope from her pocket and placed it on the table.

“And no one saw me do it, just like you ordered.”

Satisfied, she began to walk back to Markus’s room. She wanted to watch whatever scene was unfolding there, but didn’t want to arrive too quickly, lest Markus connect her return with Maxwell’s appearance.

She wasn’t disappointed. As she approached the room, she could hear their arguing voices, and was able to make out Markus shouting something about ‘platform shoes and a wig’.

She was about to open the door, but then stopped. She turned to a mirror on the wall and, as she had feared, a smug smile was plastered on her face. She smoothed it out into a look of practiced indifference and opened the door.

Inside Maxwell stood with his arms crossed, staring sternly down at Markus, who was a full head shorter. Markus was making a pleading gesture with his palms upturned. In the TV on the back wall, an indecently dressed cat-maid was encouraging the player to press start.

“Pardon me for saying so young master, but I have heard you do not receive an allowance. I believe the amount taken from my paycheck and the price you paid for the game should match to the cent. How do you explain that?”

“Sure, I don’t get an allowance– thanks for rubbing salt in my wounds, by the way! So what if the prices match? All games cost about the same. Besides, I got the money by running errands for my uncle!”

“Who else would take that exact amount? It wouldn’t be worth the effort! And again pardon me, but weren’t you once caught forging your father’s signature on a school form? I heard it was a perfect imitation!”

Markus’s face drew tight in anger and he drew himself up to his full height, hands balled into fists at this side, and he looked up at Maxwell’s face.

“Tch! Don’t drag up the past! Anyways, who could pass for you, even with platform shoes, you freaking giraffe!”

Markus turned on his heel and marched towards the door.

“Alexia! Good morning! Both of you come with me! We’re going to get to the bottom of this!”

So saying, he stomped out of the room and down the hallway, followed by the two servants. As he walked, he expounded his counter-arguments, pointing out that his love for that particular game series was well known, and that anyone would know today was its release date. His past indiscretions (which he deeply regretted, of course) had long since made their way through the rumor mill, just as his lack of allowance was common knowledge. People liked to talk, and poor soul that he was, he had been cruelly painted in the light of a delinquent teenager with a troubled past, through hardly any fault of his own. Was there a kid alive who hadn’t tried to forge a parent’s signature once? Sure, he admitted that his reputation was not spotless, but did that make him a thief? The point he kept coming back to was that all the evidence was circumstantial, and there was nothing that directly implicated him. If Maxwell began to feel a bit sorry for Markus after listening to all this, he did his best not to show it.

A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

“You talk like you’ve been framed, and maybe that can also fit, but let me ask you- who would dare smear the Marcellinus name for such a small profit?”

“Who indeed? I intend to find out. Someone with a grudge against my family? We have more than our fair share of political enemies that would love to have any kind of scandal. Did you see the police in the foyer this morning, trying to get our financial documents? No doubt some enemy put them up to it, but nothing ever comes of it, no matter how many times they raid us. Or perhaps the thief thought the Marcellinus name would prevent an investigation from even taking place? But I’ll make them regret it!”

They arrived at the door to Lord Alfred’s room. They could hear his muffled voice coming from inside, but instead of pleading there was a threatening quality to it. Without hesitation Markus rapped on the door.

“Uncle! I need you to confirm something for me!”

Alfred answered from within, annoyed at the interruption, “What? I’m indisposed now, come back later!”

“I just need you to confirm that you paid me for an errand, correct?”

“What, that? Yes- yes, I did.”

“And it was enough to pay for my video game, right?”

“Yes! I gave you more than enough to pay for that game! Don’t try to tell me you need more now!”

“That’s all! Thank you!”

Markus gave Maxwell a smirking I-told-you-so smile. Maxwell’s stern expression, which he had valiantly held up through Markus’s protests, began to crumble. But whatever he lost in indignant anger, Alexia gained double, since she knew the truth. For the moment she held her silence and decided to see how his ‘investigation’ would turn out. She was not sure how she would explain herself to Maxwell if she revealed what she knew.

“Now, Maxwell, would you be so kind as to gather Jeorge and anyone else who witnessed when your paycheck turned up missing, and bring them to the common room? That is where the crime was discovered, yes?”

Markus held his chin with his fingers in a deliberate thinking gesture, then continued:

“And whoever distributes the paychecks as well. I’m sure that person will provide us with important testimony.”

“That would be Merrick. Yes, I would be happy to do so, but many of them should be occupied with their tasks right now, so as a fellow servant, I…”

Markus grasped his meaning at once, and with an arrogant grin said:

“By order of Markus Marcellinus, they must all drop everything and come at once! No detours to dispose of evidence shall be allowed! And make sure you bring Merrick too.”

Maxwell nodded and ran off to carry out these orders, but Alexia looked at Markus with suspicion. In the year she had been with him, she hadn’t seen him give an order to anyone but her. It was always a request.

“Markus, can you even order the other servants? I’m the only one who reports to you.”

Markus turned to face her, the grin spreading wider.

“I can now. That’s the funny thing about authority - you have it as long as people think you have it. When Maxwell shows up, under my orders, to collect the others, of course they will obey. How could they not, after Maxwell already has?”

“More importantly, Alexia, I have a question for you - Do you trust me?”

Her answer was immediate:

“Of course not. You’ve lied to literally every person we’ve met today.”

“Well, except for one. But let me change the question - do you trust me to do the right thing?”

Alexia considered. She wanted to say yes - Markus may be a huge liar, but he was also kind. He had always been courteous to her and the other servants, even though his position allowed him to be callous and arrogant if he wished. Her clothes, food and salary had all been the result of his lies, so she was predisposed to forgive him, even though she knew this was a self-serving rationale. But it all seemed to hinge on a single point:

“Were you the one who stole from Maxwell? I can’t look the other way if it’s true. I know your alibi from Lord Alfred is bullshit. You already had the game when he gave you the money.”

Markus slumped his shoulders and made an exaggerated shrug. His face was sad and pouty, though she was sure this was an act.

“I’m not so impulsive that I can’t wait a single day to buy that game, especially when I know I have the funds incoming. So conceptually, it still works as an alibi. But I have a much better, air-tight alibi incoming, and I need you to just wait quietly until it arrives! I swear, there really is a true culprit, in fact I already know who they are, and their crimes are not limited to that trifling amount taken from Maxwell!”

“Who is it then?”

“You’ll see, just be patient.”

Markus’s eyes had an aggressive, hungry look. His lips curled back and exposed his sharp canines. She had seen this expression before– when he faced off against a tough opponent in his school’s debate team (before he got kicked out) – it always came just before he delivered a scathing rebuttal and achieved a turnabout victory.

“It’s almost showtime! I’m begging you Alexia, trust me! Just keep silent until the end! Once I’ve caught them, you can reveal everything if you want to, but not before!”

“Well… alright. I’ll keep quiet for now. But if you don’t find this ‘true culprit’ by today, I’ll turn you in!”